The door to the crypt slammed open sending a gust of wind through the dusty confines. One candle guttered, then a second, as leaves skittered across the floor.

Bleary eyed from alcohol, Spike looked up from his slouched position and saw the Slayer standing in the doorway, feet apart, hands clenched into fists, an angry, determined look on her face.

'Shit. This is it', he thought to himself, as he staggered to his feet. She was here to kill him.

As Buffy stalked towards him, Spike stumbled back a step, hands upraised. "Whoa, Slayer. Don't kill the messenger."

The door blew shut and the last of the candles went out, leaving only a lantern next to the bed to light the darkness.

Buffy stopped six inches away from him and stared up into his mask-like face.

The hard, empty look in her eyes startled him and he asked gently, "What happened, Buffy?"

"Do you care?" she snarled, moving closer and forcing him to retreat until he ran into a pillar. His eyes widened as she broke his personal space and her breasts brushed against his chest.

"If I'm going to die, I'd like to know why," he stammered.

A nasty smile spread across Buffy's face and she leaned forward, pressing her body against his. "Who said anything about dying?" Raising on her toes, she grabbed the back of his head and dragged his mouth down to hers.

The kiss was carnal--voracious and angry. She bruised his lips, forcing them open for her tongue. As his teeth cut into the tender inside of his lip, Spike growled and grabbed her arms, kissing her back with equal ferocity.

Pulling her closer, he slid one arm down her back to cup her bottom, grinding her against his growing erection. Buffy squirmed until he could feel the heat pouring off of her through the thin layers of their clothing.

Finally, gasping for air, Buffy pulled away from the kiss, only to tug his mouth to her throat. Her skin was flushed with angry need, and Spike could taste her heady arousal as her pulse beat rapidly beneath his mouth. With a moan of lust, he pulled her tangled hair from her neck and ran his rough tongue along her carotid artery, delighting in the shivers that ran through her.

"Scared, Slayer?" he managed to mumble.

"...No."

His bloodlust rising, Spike pulled reluctantly away from her neck. He couldn't bite her, and the pain if he tried would be quite a turn off at the moment. Glancing down through hooded eyes, he watched her breasts heave against her tank top, and a wolfish grin crossed his face. Slowly he rotated her pelvis against his, watching knowingly as her eyes widened at the feel of his cock pressing against her most sensitive spot.

"This what you want, Buffy?" he asked cooly. Sudden fear filled him. What if she said 'no' and left?

"It's what I need." Her hands went to the bottom of his t-shirt and she yanked it up. As her fingers teased his nipples, her tongue danced across his sternum, sending bolts of lust through him. Spike swallowed hard and jerked the shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly aside. His hands found the sleeves of her jacket and he pushed them down and off.

Almost reverently, he cupped her breasts, suprised at their fullness. Her nipples poked into his palms, as he began gently to knead the soft flesh. He had never really thought any part of the Slayer would be soft.

Arching into his hands, she moaned against his chest, the sound reverberating through him. Tingles of pleasure flooded through her and she raised her arms, silently urging him to undress her.

With suddenly shaky hands, Spike stripped the top over her head, revealing creamy skin barely covered by a tiny, black lace bra. His fingers skimmed down the straps and slipped beneath the top of the lace cups, nearly burning from her heat. Panting slightly, he found the clasp in the front and unhooked it.

The cups parted and her breasts tumbled into his itching hands. Spike squeezed her supple flesh, and Buffy moaned, clutching at his forearms, as need slammed into her. As he lowered his head and captured one of her taut nipples between his teeth, Buffy reached for his belt buckle and undid it, then hesitantly touched him.

At the feel of her fingers lightly caressing the throbbing bulge between his legs, Spike growled and caught her hand, pressing it against him harder. Worrying her nipple with his tongue and teeth, he ground their bodies together until she was gasping and shaking.

Fighting for some measure of control, Buffy pulled back from Spike, but before he could do more than growl in disappointment, she dropped to her knees.

Eyes widening, Spike stared down at the top of her golden head, as her fingers quickly unzipped his jeans and pulled them down to his knees. His erect cock sprang forth and she wrapped her hand around the base, her fingernails lightly scraping the sensitive flesh. Spike banged his head back against the pillar and groaned.

Buffy stared at the cock in her hand, eyes gleaming with need, as her mouth went dry. It was large, very large, and long, as pale as the rest of him, none of his own blood to darken it. The tip was slightly purple, and slick with his secretions.

And he was uncircumcized.

Suddenly hungry to taste him, Buffy ducked her head and slid the tip between her lips, sucking gently.

Spike groaned again and found her shoulders, clutching at her as his eyes rolled in his head. He hadn't expected the heat. Her mouth was an inferno, which only served to heighten his lust. Forcing himself not to thrust uncontrollably, he stared down at her from glazed eyes and watched her mouth move up and down his staff.

"Oh...fuck..."

Grinning around the cock in her mouth, Buffy began to suck harder, bobbing her head up and down and taking him to the edge of her throat, as her fingers slid between his legs and squeezed his balls.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..."

He could feel the orgasm approaching in a wild rush. It was too soon, but he couldn't stop it. This was his fantasy come to life, but the reality was so much better. The hot wet confines of her mouth, her teeth and tongue, her little fingers, all were driving him insane.

Spike tightened his fingers on her shoulders, wanting to grab her hair and smash her face into his crotch, but dimly realizing she wouldn't appreciate that. He could feel his demon screaming for release inside him, but fought it back. Growling and grunting his need, he bit into his own lip, tasting stale, cold blood. His hips began to buck and still she took him in, filling her mouth with his cool, heavy staff.

Beneath her fingers, his balls tightened, and she squeezed them again, her mouth sliding back towards the head of his cock. Her ears filled with the sounds of his pleasure, and between her thighs she felt an answering need erupt. Concentrating on sucking on the sensitive tip, she idly slipped her free hand between her legs and felt her dampness through her leather pants. Pressing one finger against her cleft, she moaned.

That was all it took, the vibration of her moan around his senstive glans. With a loud grunt, Spike exploded, thrusting wildly as his semen spurted into her mouth.

Buffy swallowed as much as she could, her hand pumping the shaft, but some spilled down her chin. Pulling back, she licked her lips, then smirked up at him.

Panting hard, Spike slumped against the pillar, his body shuddering from the orgasmic release.

And still his cock remained hard and ready.

"Convenient," she murmured, rising to her feet to kick off her shoes. With trembling hands, she peeled off her pants and thong, then slipped from the opened bra.

The heady scent of her arousal broght Spike back to full awareness and he gawked at her nude body. She was slender, but her hips were nicely rounded, her breasts were high and perky, and her ass was plump enough to make a man weep.

She strolled past him towards the bed and Spike turned, stumbling over the jeans caught at his knees. Hopping from foot to foot, he removed his boots and jeans, his eyes never leaving her as she reclined in the center of the mattress.

As her hand slid between her legs, his mouth went dry and lust fried his brain. Growling, he stumbled over to the bed and flung himself on top of her.

"Not gonna be nice. Not gonna be slow. Can't wait, can't..." he babbled, moving between her spread legs, his cock replacing her hand at the entrance to her body.

Buffy reached up and wrapped one arm around his neck, archign her body to his. "I don't want foreplay. Just fuck me," she growled back, her legs sliding along his, her toes caressing the backs of his calves.

"Girl of my dreams," Spike muttered as he slid his hands beneath her hips, raising her to him. With another lusty growl, he thrust forward, driving his cock halfway into her.

His eyes rolled back in head as the inner heat of her core was ten times hotter than her mouth. "Oh fuck... You're so tight and hot and wet..."

Mewling in need, Buffy dug her knees into his hips and thrust her pelvis up, driving him deeper. A twinge of discomfort, as his thick cock stretched her wider than she was accustomed, was quickly eradicated by the intense pleasure as he rubbed spots she hadn't known existed.

Hilted inside her, Spike slowly withdrew, then slammed forward, making them both groan. Their lips met again, tongues and teeth clashing, as their bodies began to rock together.

There was nothing gentle about their mating. Jolts of painful pleasure went through Buffy everytime their pelvises slapped against each other. She could feel bruises forming on her inner thighs, felt her lips abraded by his teeth, her nipples rubbed painfully against his rock-hard chest, but she didn't care. The molten pleasure inside her sent her out of her mind.

Her fingernails dug into Spike's shoulders, scoring streaks of red down his back, as she flung her head back and keened. His mouth found her throat again, suckling hungrilly at her damp and salty flesh, as he thrust into her at a wild pace. She met each thrust, her hips bouncing on the bed, her heels thumping against his legs.

He could feel her inner muscles squeezing around him, nearly strangling him, and a thought popped into his head. With a jerk, he rolled them, bringning her over him. Startled, Buffy cried out, and met his hungry gaze.

"Ride me, baby," he groaned, his hands catching her slender hips.

Pushing herself up into a seated position, Buffy felt a hot flush of need shudder through her, and swallowed hard. Her hands pressed into his shoulders as she lifted her hips until only the very tip of his cock remained inside her.

Perspiration beaded on her forehead and dripped down onto him from her breasts and hips, as she held them both still for nearly a minute.

Then, with a wild cry, she slammed down on him, driving his cock to the edge of her womb. A shudder went through her, then another, and she bit into her lower lip, her inner muscles clenching, her fingers biting into the hard flesh of his chest. Flinging her head back, Buffy held her breath, feeling the ecstasy building deep inside her.

Spike watched her, his eyes narrowed, tiny pants issueing from bewtween his parted lips. His fingers dug into her hips, brusing her, as his cock throbbed painfully, but he didn't try to force her to move. He just watched.

Her orgasm hit with sudden fury. Lashing her head forward, she bucked, tearing herself free from the grip of his fingers, as her body flew out of control. She bounced up and down, driving his cock into her, her vagina milking him, as her hot juices slid down his staff, coating and burning him at the same time.

It was a wonderful burn.

As Buffy began to relax, gasping for breath and slowing her movements, Spike rolled them again. Propped up on his elbows, he thrust in short, quick jerks. Her quivering muscles were like little tongues on his cock, and he let his control slip and surrendered to his own climax.

If anything, it was more powerful than his first. Unprepared for the sudden burst of white hot ecstasy, he pumped wildly into her, his mouth buried between her breasts as he held onto her. He could feel her still moving beneath him, around him, her muslces still caressing him, her fingers in his hair, guidng his mouth to one of her nipples.

As his seed spilled from him, flooding her, he felt a second quake go through her, and blinked upwards to see her head arched into the pillow, her body straining, as a more gentle orgasm rolled thorugh her.

Exhausted, Spike collapsed on top of Buffy, and they lay still for several minutes, until their bodies relaxed and their minds cleared.

Slowly, a bit warily, Spike moved off of the Slayer, his eyes never leaving her flushed face. Placing one foot on the floor, he scooted backwards to lean against the headboard, and reached for his cigarettes on the side table.

As the lighter flared, Buffy stared blankly up at the cobweb strewn ceiling of the crypt, and began to wonder what the hell she was doing. Her anger and pain had gotten the better of her, had taken control of her, and driven her...here?

'For the best fuck of my life,' she thought, still a bit amazed at the state of bliss Spike had put her in.

"Wanna tell me what this was all about, Slayer?"

"Not particularly," she mumbled, reaching for the sheet and tugging it over her.

He had to know. "What happened with the boyscout?"

She stiffened, her fingers clenching around the edge of the sheet. "I don't want to talk about it."

Blowing out a stream of smoke, Spike turned to look at her. Her eyes skittered away from his. "So, you came to me because you finally decided to take me up on my offer of a dance?"

In answer, Buffy jerked the sheet around herself and rose from the bed to stalk towards her clothes.

"Luv? We did just screw for a good fifteen minutes. You don't have anything to hide."

"Stop being a pig," she growled, reaching down for her panties and trying to keep the sheet around herself.

"I know you didn't leave Finn's bed to come to mine. His scent's old on you."

Making an inarticulate sound of rage, she struggled to put her panties on under the sheet.

"Did you have a fight with him? Did you confront him about the vampire trulls? You know, he staked me with a plastic stake..."

"Shut up, Spike," Buffy screamed, interupting him. She began to shake, tears forming in her eyes.

Concerned, Spike stubbed out his cigarette and rose from the bed, approaching her cautiously. "Buffy?"

Slowly she looked up, big tears rolling down her cheeks, a look of such pain and loss in her eyes. The scrap of silk dropped from her trembling hands and the sheet began to slip. Taking her arm gently, he pulled her against him, his arms sliding around her waist. She sank into him, her tears burning his chest.

"What happened, luv?" he murmured against the top of her head.

She shook her head, a sob erupting from her throat. Her hands gripped his shoulders, holding herself up as her knees weakened. They stood there for several minutes, his hands sweeping gently up and down her back, her sobs breaking the silence in the crypt, until she finally regained her control.

Lifting her head from his chest, Buffy swiped at her sore eyes and sniffled, "Sorry."

"It's okay, luv. Looks like you needed a good cry."

"Riley left me," she replied bluntly.

Spike's eyebrows raised in surprise. He hadn't been expecting that. A confrontation, a fight, even a break-up...

"The bastard just ran out on me." She jerked back from him and the sheet dropped to the floor. Angry again, she snatched up her clothes and began to put them on, uncaring about Spike's eyes on her. "He gave me an ultimatum-- accept his lame excuse for letting those whores suck on him or he was leaving. He actually tried to defend his stupidity."

"So, you got pissed and came here to shag me." Spike crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the pillar she'd blown him against.

Buffy's eyes flashed to him, and color stained her cheeks. "I wasn't thinking," she finally muttered, bending to zip up her boots.

"I'm always available when you don't want to think, Slayer," he replied, a quirky grin crossing his face.

"Put on some clothes," she said, spinning around and slipping on her jacket.

"You saw me naked, too, luv." Coming up behind her, he took her shoulders in his hands. Before she could protest, his mouth found her throat, his tongue licking at her heated flesh. One hand slipped down her body to cup a breast.

"...Stop," Buffy moaned, her hand catching his wrist, but caressing, not squeezing.

"Make me, Slayer," he whispered, his fingers tweaking her nipple into hardness.

Reaching back, Buffy ran her hands along his flanks as she pressed against him, her leather clad bottom curving into his groin. Then she stiffened and pulled away from him.

"Not again, not now, I gotta..." Without a backwards look, she bolted from the crypt.

The door banged shut behind her, blowing out the lantern and plunging Spike into darkness.

"Well, fuck..."

The End

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